


A Heavy Conversation

by DPPatricks



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:49:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23018071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DPPatricks/pseuds/DPPatricks
Summary: After a tense case, Starsky is feeling unsettled about himself.
Relationships: Ken Hutchinson/David Starsky
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	A Heavy Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> This is a tag to the end of my story, “Shooter,” posted here on AO3; it should be read first. Here is the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19319890  
> This new story was written in response to the March Friday Fiction prompt, Do You Want To Talk About It, on FaceBook’s S&H Fans&FanFiction page. Good one, Paula!

Starsky and Hutch dropped a somber Kiko and Molly off at Kiko’s house after their Baskin-Robbins binge. The kids would still be grounded because Starsky didn’t think he, especially, had any right to interfere with a mother’s attempt to discipline her children, and Hutch hadn’t said anything to the contrary.

They were nearly back downtown before Hutch broke the silence. “Awful quiet there, Starsk.” When Starsky didn’t respond, Hutch prodded. “What’s wrong?”

Starsky waved his right hand negligently, “Nothin’.”

Starsky could almost hear the wheels turning in Hutch’s mind so he wasn’t surprised when his partner persisted.

“This whole case has gotten to you, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

They were both silent for a few minutes and Starsky hoped Hutch was going to let it go. He should have known better.

“I’ll bet you’ve been thinking about what Armstrong said while the three of us were walking to the parking lot that morning. Haven’t you?”

Starsky gave himself a mental kick; his best friend knew him too well. “I was just like him, Hutch. It coulda been me. I might’ve made the shot that killed Dennison.”

“That’s not true and you know it!” Hutch gestured toward the pocket park they were approaching. “Pull over. We’re going to talk about this and I want your full attention.”

Not happy about having his private thoughts invaded but knowing Hutch only had his best interests at heart, Starsky did as directed. After they’d both gotten out, he locked the car and trailed his partner into the small patch of city green.

Hutch reached the area’s single picnic table first, climbed onto it and rested his feet on the bench. “Have a seat in my office.”

Hutch’s expression and voice held the kindness and support Starsky was used to but the eyes were intense. Rather than meeting that gaze, Starsky turned around and sat next to the cord-clad knees. Hutch’s hand fell lightly onto his shoulder and stayed there. The simple contact made Starsky feel a little better but he realized that he’d put Hutch through days of worry and Hutch was probably right - they did need to talk about it. 

“What was it Armstrong said?” Hutch asked. “Once a shooter, always a shooter?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

The fingers squeezed Starsky’s shoulder. “Well, I, for one, am grateful.”

He shifted and looked up at Hutch. “What?”

Hutch smiled, soul-deep and reassuring. “You’re the best marksman I know, Starsk. You out-shot the rest of our academy class by so many points, it wasn’t funny. And you’ve saved my life any number of times by being a crack shot. So I’m grateful.”

“But…” Starsky really didn’t know what to say.

“You’re nothing like him, buddy,” Hutch continued. “You care about people, not just yourself. Armstrong’s the most self-centered, self-aggrandizing --”

“Self what?”

Hutch grinned and Starsky knew his partner had deliberately thrown the twelve cent word into the conversation in order to catch Starsky’s attention. Well, he had it now. Starsky took a deep breath and, suddenly, the weight he’d put on his own shoulders lifted. “Okay, I get it. He only thought of himself, cared about himself, made himself important in his chosen circle.”

“Right. And that is _not_ you, David Starsky. You may have shared a skill that some consider a talent but you’ve used yours to help people.”

“And Armstrong only used his to kill.”

“Exactly.” 

Starsky felt the knots inside him - the ones that had been twisting him up since he’d stood on that hillside and known that someone, with an ability similar to his own, had murdered Marcus Dennison - begin to relax. He wasn’t like T.T. Armstrong and never would be.

Starsky stood up and reached out a hand. When Hutch grabbed it, Starsky pulled his partner off the table and into his arms. “Thanks, buddy.”

Hutch stepped back. “You okay, now?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

Starsky slung an arm around Hutch’s shoulders as they headed back to the Torino and discovered it was true - he _was_ okay, now.

END


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